I posted this in the Writers Board in a thread titled:
I watched my Mother,
as she stood on a Cliff.
The wind did Whir crazilly,
as she cried her in her shift.
Blackberry winters,
by the sea of despair,
left my mother in want,
of my father gone there.
Licking waves beat loudly.
Clouds gather dark.
My mother plunged o'er,
and I lost my heart.
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